


got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you

by tesselated



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, non-au tour fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:40:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tesselated/pseuds/tesselated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>so apparently zayn and louis have been living on their own separate bus for the past /two weeks/ and this is about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you

**Author's Note:**

> zouis did a thing!!!!!!!
> 
> also this is a birthday present for my beautiful sweet jay congrats on being older than me you fucking gay baby

It’s gotten to the point that Zayn doesn’t even remember whether they’re in Australia or New Zealand anymore. 

Same thing really, he thinks, then reminds himself never to say that out loud in front of anyone from either country. 

He flops over in his bunk. He can hear Niall and Liam down the hall, Niall mocking Liam’s riffs and Liam laughing easily back at him. Zayn grins absentmindedly. 

Suddenly, though, someone is forcing themselves into Zayn’s bed, nudging him over so they can squeeze in, and Zayn doesn’t have to open his eyes to know it’s Louis. 

“Wake up, you lazy sod.” Louis says, his voice muffled by Zayn’s pillow. 

Zayn just makes a “mmf” noise, pushing at Louis’ shoulder before fitting himself around Louis, their knees knocking together awkwardly. 

“What d’you want, then?” Zayn asks, opening one eye to peer and Louis questioningly. Louis pokes his nose. 

“Dunno. I’m bored.” Louis shrugs, and Zayn opens his eyes fully just to roll them at Louis. 

“You’re so annoying.”

“You love me, though.” Louis says with a cheeky grin. Zayn just makes another “mmf” noise.

Hard to argue with it, really. Everyone loves Louis, don’t they. 

They lie in silence for a few minutes, Louis squirming anxiously until Zayn gives him a practiced glare. He stills, then, instead tracing at the lines of the tiger on Zayn’s shoulder. 

“Y’know what I miss?” Louis says.

“Home?” Zayn guesses. Louis sighs.

“Takes the fun out when you guess it right away,” Louis whines, and Zayn grins. 

“Me too.” 

Silence again. 

“I miss the Mystery Machine.” Louis says.

Zayn hums. He does too, actually. It’s so _cool_. It’s more than _just_ cool, it goes a little deeper than that, but still, it’s like, really cool. 

“We should have another one. A tour one.” Zayn says. Louis sits up a little, eyes widening as he gets that stupid grin on his face that means he’s had an idea. 

“Let’s do it, let’s get a van or something.” He sounds excited, and Zayn grins at him.

“Yeah, okay.” 

++ 

“It’s not nearly as cool.” Louis says of the almost-RV thing that someone’s procured for them. Zayn’s not sure who. Paul was the one that drove it in, though. 

Paul glares.

“It’s plenty cool,” Zayn says, giving Louis a pointed look. 

“Y’know what it looks like?” Louis says a moment later, perking up. 

Zayn just looked at him, the hot of the New Zealand (Australia? Whatever) sun making him sleepy.

“Like the thing from Breaking Bad, the one they make the meth in.” Louis says excitedly, and Zayn laughs.

“Bit, yeah.” 

“Let’s be drug lords, Zayn. Proper hard drug lords.” Louis says, grabbing Zayn’s shoulders before scampering (scampering in a very proper hard drug lord way, Zayn’s sure) through the door. 

“I’ll get you lot a driver, then.” Paul says, in his disgruntled-but-fond way. 

“Thanks, mate.” Zayn calls after him before looking around and allowing himself to scamper after Louis.

++

“So what’s our backstory?” Louis asks Zayn in a slow voice while Zayn takes a hit from Louis’ bowl. 

“Huh?” Zayn asks after he exhales heavily, letting the smoke cloud around his head.

“Our backstory as proper hard drug lords, Zayn. Keep up.” Louis smirks, before inhaling deeply. 

“Right, right. Uhh. We’re on the run because a rival drug...gang...has a….hit on us.” Zayn says, waving his hand in front of him while he talks. It’s the best he can come up with after two bowls and four hours of sleep. 

“Cool,” Louis says, sounding satisfied. He sets the bowl and the lighter down, moving to snuggle against Zayn in the twin-sized bed that they found at the back of the bus. He nuzzles his three-day stubble against Zayn’s neck, and Zayn sighs in a content kind of way. 

They’ve been in the van for four days now, living out of the one bundle of clothes they brought in here, those big bottles of Gatorade they get at gas stations, and Louis’ stash of pot. It’s kind of been a haze, if Zayn’s being honest. Shows are starting to run together and neither of them smell good. 

He’s finding it hard to care, though, with Louis pressed warm against him and the cozy light of the sun streaming through the curtains. 

“Talk about something.” Louis instructs him, and Zayn gives a murmur that sounds enough like “why” for Louis to respond.

“I like the way you talk. I like your voice.” Louis says, and Zayn sighs again. The good kind of sighing. 

“My sister’s dating some boy, apparently.” Zayn says after a minute. 

“Which one?” Louis asks. 

“Safaa.” Zayn says somberly.

“You’re fucking me.” Louis says, pulling back to raise his eyebrows.

“I wish, bro.” Zayn says. They both take a few seconds to laugh at the double entendre before moving on. 

“Fuck, how old is she? Nine?” Louis shakes his head, settling back into the crook between Zayn’s neck and collarbone. 

“Uhh, eleven, I think, but still. A boyfriend. Horrible.” 

“Let’s fuck him up.” Louis says sleepily. Zayn snorts.

“Yeah, very intimidating. We’re members of One Direction and we’re here to sing you to death.” 

“Excuse you, I’m extremely intimidating.” Louis says, sounding wounded, and Zayn considers.

“Yeah, you are, a bit. Dead scary in the mornings.” Zayn says, ducking his head out of the way when Louis blindly slaps at him.

Zayn doesn’t know how much time elapses before Louis is parting his lips at Zayn’s collarbone, teeth bared just enough to bite down gently. Zayn makes a content noise in the back of his throat, moves so he’s underneath Louis. 

Zayn feels so heavy and Louis is so soft and warm, all curved edges resting against Zayn’s sharp ones. And then Louis’ kissing up his neck, his chapped lips brushing against Zayn’s pulse.

They kiss for what feels kind of like forever, in half-sunlight on an unmade bed that smells like their cologne and sweat and it seems weirdly perfect to Zayn, though this is the highest he’s been in a while, so who knows. 

It’s kissing with no real intention, the usual, lazy kind that Zayn and Louis share. This feels a bit more than their usual kissing though, seems a bit bigger, but whatever. It’s warm and comfortable, the way Louis slots into him and his lips fit Zayn’s, and he tastes good. Louis always tastes good, Zayn thinks idly. 

He wonders if his cum tastes good and wow, that’s out of left field. Is it? He doesn’t know. He focuses on Louis, putting his hands on Louis’ hips mostly just to feel the soft skin between the hem of his shirt and the hem of his sweatpants. 

“You’re soft,” Zayn mutters unconsciously, and Louis snickers.

“Y’want me to get hard, babe?” He asks, and Zayn giggles, surging forward to kiss him again. 

“No, not really. That sounds messy.” Zayn replies. Louis hums, giving him a final soft peck before settling his head sleepily on Zayn’s chest. 

Messy in more ways than one, Zayn thinks before drifting into a half-nap with Louis still curled up on top of him.

++

Louis mistakenly picks Zayn’s jeans up off the floor and wears them so many times that eventually Zayn just tells him to keep them. 

“You’ve stretched the bum all out, mate.” Zayn says, patting Louis on the back when he rolls his eyes at that. 

“Just because you don’t _have_ a bum…” Louis trails off.

“Oi,” Zayn says warningly. Louis snorts.

“We need more food.” Louis says, shaking an empty box of cereal. 

They’ve been living in the bus for a week and a half. 

“Ugh, I don’t wanna leave. You go, I got food last time.” Zayn says, running a hand through his admittedly somewhat greasy hair. They’re parked somewhere, outside an arena, and Zayn knows there’s tons of food on the other buses. The lads are at a hotel between shows this week, Zayn remembers from a conversation with Harry a couple days ago.

He’d been surprised when none of them asked about their stupid RV, but Niall just shrugged and said, “It’s just a thing. You guys have things. These little things you do together. They’re not surprising, really.” 

It sounded kinda wise, but then Niall hit himself in the face with a soccer ball, so. 

Zayn shoves it out of his head. He didn’t need to be hearing about their _things_. Whatever. 

“Fine, I’ll go.” Louis sighs. Before he stands up, he gives Zayn a kiss on the cheek, like they’re some married couple and he’s going out to buy groceries.

Oh, god. It is kinda like that.

“Hey, Lou.” Zayn calls before he leaves.

“Yeah?” Louis asks, pushing back his too-long hair.

“D’you think it’s weird, us, lately?” Zayn asks, gesturing between them. Louis catches what he means.

“I dunno. I try not to think about it, really. Try not to think about anything. Makes things very easy.” Louis smirks, and Zayn glares. 

Louis sighs. “I dunno, mate. Is it weird to you?” 

“No.” Zayn says.

“Well, it’s not weird to me either, so.” Louis says back. 

It’s silent for a minute, them staring at each other across the tiny breakfast nook in the van, their van, their _thing_. 

“I like kissing you.” Zayn says. Louis shifts in his seat and Zayn can tell he’s trying not to look pleased with himself.

“I like kissing you too. Jesus, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t keep doing it.” Louis says, giving a crooked grin. 

“God, you’re insufferable. You look like shit, by the way.” Zayn says, biting his lip to keep from smiling. 

“I look amazing, because I always look amazing.” Louis says simply. 

“Insufferable.” Zayn repeats. 

++

“I mean, we’ve always kissed a bit.” Zayn says later when his back is pressed into Louis’ chest and they’re tucked into their bed. Oh god, not _their_ bed, _the_ bed. 

“You’re very pretty.” Louis says, his cold feet nudging Zayn’s legs. 

Zayn blushes a little. 

“You’re good to kiss.” Zayn says a few seconds later.

“I’d like to kiss you now, please.” Louis says, and Zayn snorts.

“Since when do you ask permission to do anything.” He mutters, before turning around and fitting against Louis, their chests pressed together. Louis’ stubble rubs against Zayn’s but Zayn finds he doesn’t mind. 

They kiss until Zayn’s lips feel raw from being bitten and he is starting to mind the stubble a bit, until he can feel Louis getting hard and pressing into his hip. He feels like he should do something about that, but the problem is that everything is so warm and sleepy, he doesn’t want to move. 

He grinds up into Louis instead, moving his hips so their dicks press against each other for a moment, through a few layers of fabric. Louis is making little whines in the back of his throat every time Zayn grinds into him and Zayn smirks through a kiss, nipping at Louis’ jawbone. 

He snakes his hand between them, slipping under the waistband of Louis’ sweatpants and finding himself completely unsurprised that he’s not wearing boxers. He can’t think of a quip so he just grabs Louis’ dick instead, smirking bigger when he hears Louis make a loud, breathy noise. 

It doesn’t take long for Lou to start panting loud in his ear, their kisses becoming more open-mouthed until Zayn gives up on it, kissing down Louis’ neck instead. It’s been a while for Louis, Zayn knows (one of the privileges of living in the same 100 square feet from someone is knowing when they get off or don’t get off), so he isn’t very surprised that he’s so close already. 

“Wait, shit can you - blow me, please?” Louis says in a strained voice when Zayn starts to move faster. 

“You’re so polite in bed, Lou. Never would’ve guessed.” Zayn says, taking his hand away and hearing Louis make a noise at the loss. 

“God, shut up.” Louis says, and Zayn can see his cheeks go pink in the low light. 

“I’ll do you if you do me.” Zayn says, wiping his hand off on the blanket.

Louis makes an unenthusiastic noise.

“Yeah, well, I don’t love it either, but you’re practically _begging_ over here.” Zayn says in a low voice, smirking at the flustered look on Louis’ face.

This, he decides, is fun. Making Louis squirm. Very satisfying. 

“Fine, you prick.” Louis says, pushing Zayn down by his shoulders. Zayn smirks again. 

He lifts the hem of the too-big t-shirt Louis’ wearing, probably inherited from Harry at some point, to kiss at Louis’ hipbones, using teeth when Louis starts trying to push him further down.

He rolls his eyes when Louis digs his fingernails into his skin, pulling down Louis’ sweatpants roughly. 

“You’re so demanding,” Zayn says before licking up Louis’ shaft, working his hand at the base and his mouth at the head.

Louis is close when he starts, his thighs tensing as he squirms underneath Zayn, leaking precome onto Zayn’s tongue, and it only takes him a few minutes to almost get there. Zayn pushes more of Louis into his mouth and Louis gives a weak cry, pulling at Zayn’s hair, and Zayn takes the signal, pulls off of Louis in time for his come to splatter across his mouth instead of in it. 

Louis props himself up weakly on his elbows to look down at Zayn and he groans.

“What?” Zayn asks, looking for a towel somewhere in the mound of clothing near them. 

“You look so pretty.” Louis mutters, reaching out to touch Zayn’s cheekbone. Zayn grins a little, but then he remembers that there’s come on his face, and settles for one of Louis’ ratty t-shirts, wiping the mess off. 

He remembers his question from before and licks at a remaining droplet on his lips. Not _good_ , per se, but better than most, he decides. 

He lets Louis have a good minute of afterglow before rutting into his hip, reminding Louis of the other side of the deal he made. 

“Oh, sorry, babe.” Louis mutters, like he just remembered, and reaches his hand out to grab at Zayn, giving him a few languid strokes and making Zayn give a low involuntary noise. 

Zayn tries to think of the last time _he_ got off, what fucking country it was, and decides this is probably not going to take long. 

He’s right. It only takes Louis bobbing as far down as he can on Zayn for a few minutes before Louis has to stop him from arching up too far. 

“Lou, I’m gonna come.” He says in a scratchy voice a few minutes later, pulling on Louis’ hair, but Louis stays at it, letting Zayn come in his mouth and swallowing expertly while Zayn sees stars and flops down onto the mattress in an exhausted kind of way.

“Dunno how you do that.” Zayn says as Louis resurfaces, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Louis shrugs. “It’s easier, no cleanup.” 

“You lazy little shit.” Zayn smirks, pulling Louis down next to him and running his hands through Louis’ hair. 

He kisses Louis again, soft and dry, his hands splaying against Louis’ chest. 

“I like this bus.” Louis says after a moment of sleepy, sated silence. 

“Y’just got your dick sucked, Lou. You like everything.” Zayn snorts.

“Fair point, but just in general.” 

“Yeah.” 

They go quiet again, Louis’ breathing going deeper.

“Lou?” Zayn says.

“Yeah?”

“Niall says we’ve got these...these things, that we do, just us.” Zayn says. He’s not sure what the rest of the sentence is, so he stops there.

Louis doesn’t respond for a minute.

“Reckon we do. Nothing really wrong with that, is there?” Louis asks him. It’s kind of a loaded question, Zayn thinks.

“‘Course not. Just. Never noticed before. He’s right though, isn’t he? It’s more than like, the Mystery Machine, or whatever. We do stuff.” Zayn says. He knows he sounds silly and sleepy but he doesn’t care, and Louis doesn’t even laugh at him. If this is what giving Louis head does to him, he should try it more often, maybe. 

“You make me miss stuff less.” Louis says quietly. “You feel like home, sometimes.” 

It knocks the breath out of Zayn, so he doesn’t try to think of anything to say back. He just leans over and kisses Louis’ cheek instead. 

++

They stay in the van for another four days, sharing more bowls and kissing the smoke out of each others’ mouths. 

Zayn thinks what he maybe likes most about Louis is that he’s the perfect size to fit against Zayn wherever they’re sleeping, their knees never knocking the wrong way, their teeth never hitting against each other. He doesn’t let himself voice his own half-thought, that they were made to fit into one another, because it feels like too much for him to deal with. 

He doesn’t want to deal with anything, and maybe that’s why they’ve been locked in this bus for two weeks. Maybe they’re just big loser escapists with too much money and too much weed to ever want to think about anything.

He laughs at himself, this cynical moment of ennui he’s managed to come across, driving across whatever goddamn country this is. Louis looks over at him from where he’s eating dry Fruit Loops out of the box and smoking a cigarette and gives him a look, but Zayn just shakes his head.

Tomorrow, they’ll perform another gig - Niall would know what show number it was and have it cross-referenced in that notebook he keeps, but he’s not Niall - in another city, tomorrow they’ll get to think about things, but today he just wants to do fuck all with the boy who wants to kiss him.


End file.
